Harry Potter and the forgotten letter
by MurtaghSpamanoGirl
Summary: Harry's world is turned up side down when a long lost letter reaches him, adressed to his father.


No one saw who dropped the letter into the letterbox at Privet Drive 4 and it wasn't until Sunday evening that Dudley Dursley would come to discover the letter on his hall way floor, hidden under bills and postcards. Dudley frowned slightly as he spotted the odd letter.

"Dudley, dear, I'm carrying a bag and a baby. Don't stop in the doorway." Mrs Claire Dursley said, huffing a little in annoyance.

Dudley snapped out of his thoughts and stepped to the side, allowing his wife to pass. Claire huffed some more and put down the small child on the floor. Quicker than Claire could regret her choice, the one year old had crawled across living room, eyes glued on a small statue on the living room table.

"Mums statue!" Dudley yelled out as he hurried towards the small toddler.

The toddler scrambled onto wobbly feet as he reached for the statue.

"Archimedes. Put back the statue." Claire warned.

Archimedes replied with gleefully shaking the statue.

"Pretty!"

"Archimedes!" Dudley repeated, stretching out a hand towards his son. "Give daddy the statue."

"Don't wanna!" Archimedes yelled in a sudden fit of anger letting go of the statue.

Dudley released a horrified, almost Dementor-like gasp, as Petunias favourite statue fell to the floor. The statue broke in hundreds of tiny pieces.

"A-Archimedes…" Dudley tried. "Stand still. I'm coming to you."

The toddler looked tearfully at his dad, a wave of guilt eminent on his small face.

"No one is mad at you." Archimedes repeated. "Just be completely still."

Archimedes' face reddened in anger.

"DON'T WANNA!" he screamed furiously.

The entire house seemed to shake with the toddlers scream. The pictures on the walls fell of their hooks and even the walls seemed ready to break. And just like that, it was over. Claire had managed to pick the screaming toddler up from the ground and hugged him as tightly as she possibly. Claire and Dudley locked eyes with each other in an unspoken conversation.

"That was…" Claire started.

"Yes…" Dudley agreed. "That was magic."

They watched each other in silence for a moment.

"I'll go get a broom." Dudley said with a deep sigh.

Claire nodded and carried her son to the kitchen while Dudley returned to the hallway. He stopped at the cupboard beneath the stairs. Once, his cousin had lived here, but now it had been transformed into a storage and one could barely tell that there had ever lived someone in there. He hadn't spoken to Harry since they'd separated at that very address, just before Harry's 17th birthday, but he had a feeling that he'd need to see him soon.

"My son is a wizard…" he muttered before closing the cupboard and returning to the living room, and just like that, the odd letter was forgotten once more.

Harry Potter looked at the white painted fence that surrounded Privet Drive 4. At first glance, it was almost as though the house was frozen in time, but Harry had spent 17 years in the house and could see the small differences. Aunt Petunias garden was ever so slightly different, and Harry could tell that this wasn't Petunias garden anymore. It looked messy, almost, but Harry wondered if perhaps his memory had exaggerated how neat Petunias garden really was.

"Harry Potter?"

A blonde woman looked at him warily from the doorway. Harry nodded warily as he looked at her. She looked nothing like the girls he'd ever imagined Dudley to end up with. Her hair was short and curly. Her dress was tacky and even her posture seemed unlike aunt Petunias. She had a wary look on her face, almost sad.

"I'm so glad that I got a hold of you." She said, extending a pale hand to Harry. "I've been sending letter after letter to my dad, but he's stuck in Canada, and I…"

The woman stopped herself in the middle of her sentence. She looked overwhelmed.

"I'm Claire Dursley." She said at last. "Why don't you come inside? I'll make you some tea."

The inside of Privet Drive 4 looked a lot like it had when Harry had stayed there, except new pictures hung on the hallway walls. Harry stopped at the familiar old picture of the Dursley family. He wondered what Dudley might look like after all this time.

"Dudley should be home soon." Claire said absentmindedly as she led Harry into the familiar kitchen.

"You've redecorated." Harry pointed out dully as he sat down by the kitchen table.

"Yes. Petunia insisted." Claire said as she poured the tea into matching cups.

Harry's eyes landed on the baby-chair.

"You have a son?"

"His name is Archimedes." Claire told him. She placed the cup in front of him. "He's a feisty little boy. Petunia says he's a lot like Dudley at that age."

A sad smile graced Claire's lips.

"Mrs Dursley." Harry said. It felt odd saying it. "I don't think I'm here for small talk."

Claire had that wary look again.

"I always knew there might be a possibility…" she said staring into her tea. "It's in his blood, but so soon, and the first child…"

"Mrs Dursley." Harry repeated. "What's going on?"

"Mr Potter, I'm a squib." Claire said, surprisingly bluntly. "I always knew that there was a chance… I always thought that since I never had any magical abilities…"

"MRS DURSLEY!"

Claire looked up in start.

"Yes… I'm sorry. I'll be straight with you." Claire promised. "Yesterday, Archimedes showed signs of Magic."

For the first time, Harry looked Mrs Dursley in the eyes.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I don't know." Claire admitted. "He got angry, and the house started shaking…"

Claire was interrupted by the door opening.

"Claire, I'm home!"

Harry instinctly stood up when his cousin entered.

"Harry?"

Dudley looked about as surprised as Harry did. Dudley had become skinnier and was even growing a small beard on his wide chin. The toddler in his arms squirmed.

"Hi… Dudley." Harry said awkwardly.

"We don't need help." Dudley said. "Claire, we don't need help."

"He turned all pictures upside down with one scream." Claire argued. "We need help."

Harry raised his hand in defence even though he wasn't defending himself from anything.

"Is this Archimedes?" he asked, looking at the toddler.

The toddler looked at him.

"Listen, Harry." Dudley said, shifting his grip on the child. "I don't except you to want to help my wizard son after everything I've done to you."

"I honestly never expected to see you again, Dudley." Harry admitted. He opted to study the chubby child. "Then again, I didn't expect you to marry a squib or have a wizard son."

Harry met Dudley's gaze.

"Whatever happened between us I don't plan on taking it out on your child." He promised. "Tell me what you need."

"Alright, so call me if something happens again." Harry said, as he stood up from his chair. "And remember what I said about strong feelings."

"If only he wasn't such a feisty kid." Dudley replied with a laugh.

"Hey, at least he's not as bad as you." Claire joked.

Dudley roared with laughter as Harry helped Claire undo the table. As he placed the cups on the counter, his eyes landed on a landed a wrinkled letter. _Harry Potter._

"Dudley, what's this?"

Dudley looked up.

"Oh right, I forgot about that letter." He said thoughtfully. "It was just there when we got home this Sunday. Whoever wrote it obviously didn't know you moved."

Harry picked up the letter and looked at the blue ink.

"Do you mind if I take it?"

"Go ahead." Dudley ushered. "It's addressed to you. I would have send it to you anyway."

Harry inspected the letter as Dudley led him out of the house. He stopped at the door, just before opening the door to him and embraced his cousin in a big hug. Harry blinked in surprise.

"Thank you." Dudley whispered.

Harry awkwardly patted Dudley's back.

"He'll be fine." Harry said. "He has roots in Gryffindor. That boy will probably end up being prefect and a seeker."

"I don't know what any of those words mean." Dudley said as he opened the door to his cousin. "But I'm glad to have you on my side."

Harry waved goodbye to the Dursley family as he walked down Privet Drive. Once out of sight, he pulled out his wand and disaperated.

The Burrow was busy as ever when he returned. Mrs Weasley was hurrying around the kitchen, accompanied by Angelina Johnson and Percy.

"I'm back." Harry called as he entered the busy kitchen and his arm on the Weasley clock moved to _Home._

"Welcome back, Harry."

Ginny limped into the kitchen with Teddy stubbornly clinging to her leg. When the small child saw him, he instantly let go of Ginny to greet him at the door.

"HALLY!" he squeaked and threw his small arms into the air.

Harry ruffled his hair and picked him up.

"Who gave you sugar?" he asked jokingly. "Where's Ron and Hermione?"

"Garden! Garden!" Teddy yelled pointing towards the beautiful garden outside.

Harry found Ron in a heated competition with his brother, Charlie on who could rinse the garden of the most gnomes. Hermione watched with mild interest, but kept her focus on the book in her hand.

"You're back!" Ron exclaimed as he made a particularly good throw over the hedge.

"Let me down!" Teddy exclaimed as he spotted the funny-looking gnomes.

Harry laughed and put the small boy down. Teddy laughed with glee and his hair turned blue.

"Come on!" Ron called. "Charlie says he's better than you. I told him, no way he can beat the chosen one."

"Just one minute." Harry promised, just as Charlie had grabbed three gnomes in his hands. "I just need to read this letter."

Harry sat down next to Hermione in the grass.

"How was your meeting with Dudley?" Hermione asked, casting a worried look at her friend.

"Surprisingly well." Harry said. "He has a wife and a kid."

Hermione looked like she was about to say something more, but Harrys attention had shifted to the letter. Who would send him a letter to Privet Drive? He carefully opened the white letter. To his surprise, he found another, much older letter. His curiosity peaked as he pulled out the letter but he almost dropped the letter as he read the name on the letter.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Hermione asked. She put her book away.

Harry looked at the letter again just to see that he hadn't imagined it, but he hadn't. The familiar name on the old letter was as clear as the sky above them.

"This letter is addressed to my father."


End file.
